I Will Have You
by tediz-leader
Summary: AU; Pookas are nasty creatures; they take the form of a regular household rabbit and infiltrate the homes of humans so they can steal them away to mate with when the signal is sent. Unfortunately for Violin Instructor Kozmotis Pitchiner, he is the owner of one of them... Rated to be safe; gorey and implied onesided BunnymundxPitchiner
1. Chapter 1

**A small challenge for myself I wanted to write. I wanted to see if I could make a one-sided, dark BunnymundxPitch, with Bunnymund as the dominant, darker one. **

**Summary: heavy AU; Pookas are a rather nasty species; they go out into the world and impersonate regular, household rabbits to infiltrate the homes until a signal is given for them to return home with a human to mate with and produce offspring. **

**Warnings: AU, blood, gore, implied/mentioned slash and bad things... and all-out weirdness...**

**Song: _Du Riechst So Gut_ by Rammstein**

**Disclaimer:...do we even do these anymore? you all know I don't own ROTG... if I did, things would be _very_ different... like Pitch being able to break the fourth wall...**

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Kozmotis Pitchiner was a quiet man. Ever since his wife passed away several years ago, the Violin professor did everything he could to provide a good life for his only daughter. Seraphina was twelve when her mother had died, and thus she had taken up the responsibility to help around the house while her father had taken extra hours at the university. Though they never had problems with finances, the one thing Kozmotis found himself lacking was quality time with his pride and joy. Thus, he used most of his free time to spend time with Seraphina, whether it was sitting down to watch TV or actually going out for dinner or walking in the park. Lucky for him, his daughter was a bright young woman, and had won a full scholarship to the college of her choice that included room and board. As a reward and high school graduation present, Kozmotis had bought her a pet rabbit he had purchased at the rescue shelter so she wouldn't be alone at the university situated three states away. Unfortunately for Seraphina, the dorms had a strict _'No Pets'_ Policy, so her father was stuck with the little creature.

At first, Seraphina would always ask about her pet rabbit whenever she would phone home. After a while, it gradually faded to asking about the pet once a week. The rabbit quickly became Kozmotis' pet as opposed to Seraphina's, but he knew that she really didn't mind. Many nights went by where the gray rabbit was his only form of companionship. Lucky for him, the little bunny was low maintenance compared to other rabbits and was rather obedient and loyal to him. It got to the point where the rabbit became less of a pet and more like a part of the family, and Kozmotis found himself totally okay with that…

… Though he couldn't help but wonder why the rescue shelter had named the rabbit Aster…

**_Insanity  
is just a narrow bridge  
the shores are reason and urge  
I'm climbing up after you  
the sunlight's confusing the mind  
a blind child that's crawling on  
because it's smelling its mother_**

Through months of overtime and hard labor, the violinist had finally managed to save enough money to fly out and visit Seraphina. His daughter had finally graduated and was moving into her new apartment; she had already taken a job at a local pharmacy that used mostly organic material and was on her way to becoming the assistant. Since her apartment complex banned pets as well, Kozmotis had to leave his home and pet rabbit in the care of one of his students.

The violinist couldn't help but let out a sigh of relief as he stepped up to the front steps of his house. The plane ride had been too long for his tastes, and the drive home had drained whatever energy he had left. He glanced over to his driveway and saw his student's car still parked. That meant Sierra was still here like he'd asked so he could pay her. He unlocked the door and walked in, dropping his suitcase by the door before walking in and shutting the door behind him.

"I'm home!" he called out, pulling off the mustard scarf on his neck. He waited for a reply, and furrowed his brows when he received none. Kozmotis pulled off his black trench coat and threw it on the couch before making his way farther into the house. The violinist felt a shiver run up his spine, feeling the chilled air of the house seep through the holes of his black turtleneck sweater.

"…Sierra? Hello?" He looked around, hoping to see the fair-skinned redhead asleep on the couch or in the kitchen with her headphones on. But only the small lamp by the armchair was on, and the kitchen itself was dark and looked like it hadn't been used since he left. He bit his lip and continued his journey. He called out to her again and glanced at the bathroom door by the kitchen, but the room was empty and dark. He sighed and turned to check the hallway leading to his room, seeing as the hallway light was turned on. What he didn't expect to find, however, were the bloody handprints on the walls and the trail of the red liquid leading up to his room.

**_I'll find you_**

"What… the...?" Pitchiner was very knowledgeable when it came to horror movies and the slasher films of the 70's and 80's. This was the part where he should backtrack and get outside to call the police or even to his neighbor's house. Instead, he swallowed thickly and slowly made his way to his room, where the blood trail seemed to get thicker and thicker to the point where he couldn't step over or around it anymore. He could feel the wet carpet sink and form around the grooves on the soles of his black boots like soggy cookie dough. The house was quiet enough for him to hear the sick wet pop his shoe made whenever he'd lift his foot off the bloody carpet to walk. It took him an eternity of ten seconds to reach his bedroom door, which was smeared with bloody handprints. The doorknob seemed to be covered in blood and something dark and fluttery. Kozmotis tilted his head, unsure of what the foreign object was. He leaned in close, and on closer inspection, he found it to be fur like the one on Aster's paw. Hearing the sound of a wet rip, Kozmotis snapped his head up and flung the door open; hoping to whatever deity above that Sierra wasn't murdering his pet rabbit.

…He got his wish… but found something _much_ worse waiting for him.

**_The trace is new and your sweat is  
dripping onto the bridge, your warm blood  
I don't see you  
I only smell you I feel you  
a predator roaring with hunger  
I scent you many miles away_**

A splatter of blood decorated the pristine white wall to his right, as well as a few photographs he had of his late wife and his daughter when she was younger. He couldn't see much into his dark bedroom asides from what the light in the hallway could illuminate, but he could make out the dark pool of blood at the foot of the bed, and Sierra's dismembered hand contorted in an odd manner and laying at the edge of the pool. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he made out a large figure hunched over what he assumed was the rest of the large puddle of blood. A ripping sound was heard, and Kozmotis almost flinched when a bone fell into the pool and splattered a bit of the red liquid on his face.

He was at a loss for words; whatever scream he had in his throat had died as he took in the full horror his bedroom had become. As the violinist took a step back, he stepped on something weak enough to be crushed. The crack echoed throughout the hallway, making the figure in his room stop what he was doing. The violinist's eyes widened in fright as the figure straightened up and slowly made his way into the light. He took another step back, until his back hit the door of his daughter's old room. His breathing became quicker and shallower as the figure fully stepped into the light.

He always had a feeling Aster was no ordinary rabbit… It was confirmed as the large creature in front of him slowly licked some blood off his muzzle and gave him a dark, foreboding smirk. A deep rumble erupted from his throat, and Kozmotis felt his blood turn cold when a claw tilted his head up and those emerald eyes locked onto his own.

"'Ello, darling~"

**_You smell so good  
you smell so good  
I go behind you  
you smell so good  
I think you're  
so good  
so good  
I'm climbing up after you  
you smell so good  
I'm just having you_**

Pitchiner was once in cross-country when he was in high school. Though he never really went on to pursue an athletic career, the man always made sure his cardio was strong. He could never have been more grateful in his life as he ran through the forests that were near his home. That monster he once called a pet was hot on his heels, and Kozmotis was really hoping that he could lose him or find someone that could help him. The violinist took a sudden left turn, hissing in pain when a tree branch brushed against the bloody claw marks on his shoulder. The rabbit had tried to grab him by the shoulder back at the house, but he managed to slip out of its grasp and run out of the house. The tatters from the sweater stuck to his bloody shoulder, but the violinist couldn't be bothered with it at the moment. Spotting a clearing, the man bolted over and hoped there was a cabin or house of some sort where someone could help him. Instead there was a clearing filled with various holes and dirt mounds. Not wanting to take chances with possible sink holes, Kozmotis decided to climb through the trees around the area to get to the other side.

Once he made it over to the darkened path, Kozmotis took shelter behind a large tree and leaned on it. As quietly as he could, the violinist took deep breaths to try and regulate his breathing. He felt his legs and chest burning in agony, while his legs felt like jelly and seemed as though he could collapse at any moment. Once he felt like he could run again, he took a quick but careful glance at his surroundings. Finding the area to be clear, he pushed himself off the tree, only to trip and fall on the ground as something tightened around his ankle. He cried out as he fell onto his front, the sudden impact rattling his mind for a few seconds. Something grabbed his other ankle, and before he knew what was happening, Kozmotis was thigh-deep in a hole in the ground. He screamed in terror as he tried to kick at whatever had his ankles, but the grip was too strong. Kozmotis clawed and dug his hands into the ground, whimpering helplessly when he found nothing to grasp to stop his descent into what he believed was going to be his death. The hands on his ankles moved to his legs, then his waist to pull him down. It wasn't until a warm, bloody paw rested on the back of his neck did he realize that he was almost underground. With one final scream he gave all his might to pull himself out of the hole. The rabbit, however, was stronger than him, and pulled him down with a good, strong yank. Kozmotis fell to the ground, gasping in pain as his breath was pushed out of his lungs from the fall. A deep, sensuous purr filled the darkness, and the violinist felt something wet slide across the nape of his neck. He shivered, letting out a small whimper when he looked up and saw those emerald eyes staring at him with what he believed to be hunger.

It was hunger, but not the type he was thinking about…

**_Now I have you_**

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**So... thoughts?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Made a part 2... sorry for it being so damn short... and so damn crappy... on a side note, I didn't think so many people were going to like this story haha!**

**Warnings: heavy AU, slash, mentioned/implied sexual situations/non-con, mpreg in a more parasitic sense, ruining the image of Pookas**

* * *

Kozmotis had done all he could to break free of the creature's grasp. He had kicked the air, dug his heels into the earth, grabbed the walls, and went so far as to try and fight the other. Aster, or at least who he once believed to be his loyal pet rabbit was too strong for him, and the man had been knocked out via a blow to the back of the head. He assumed he was carried to wherever this monster was taking him. When he regained consciousness, the man found himself laying down on something soft. His hands were tied to something above his head, he had realized, when he felt the rough material of rope cutting at his wrists like sandpaper. The room, or wherever he was situated was rather dark; he couldn't see anything beyond his nose. The air smelled of damp earth and a hint of the perfume gardenias were famous for, and for a brief second the familiar smell brought him to a state of peace as he remembered how much his daughter loved them.

A hand, or a paw, rather, slipped itself under his sweater and rested on his stomach, tearing him away from his musings like an old bandage. Kozmotis felt the muscles in his core tighten in fear, as if they were trying to shrink away from the foreign touch. The paw was warm and soft, but it did nothing to soothe the cold heaviness that pooled in his stomach and trickle along his spine like ice water. The rabbit's claws felt like the tip of a sharp knife; he felt that if he so much as twitched, they would break the skin. Kozmotis tried so hard to control his breathing; he really didn't want to press himself closer to the invasive paw.

"Just try to relax, mate..." he heard his 'pet rabbit' purr from somewhere in the darkness. The claws lifted off his stomach, and for a moment he truly believed he was going to be let go. The sound of tearing fabric quickly extinguished his hope, and before he knew it, his sweater had been ripped off. He shivered at the sudden cold draft that raked over his bare chest, and almost failed to suppress a whimper when the paw came back and rested on the area just below his sternum. Kozmotis took in a shaky breath, trying to ignore the way the paw began to draw small patterns on his chest.

"Please..." He almost whined, "Let me go..." What he got in response was a dark chuckle and something wet drag itself along his neck. He shuddered in disgust when he felt the familiar cold nose of his rabbit press itself just under his ear.

"Oh, I can't do that, love..." he replied in a mocking tone, "I need you here..." He felt the paw on his chest begin to slide down in an agonizingly slow motion until it stopped at the waistline where his black jeans started. Instinctively, Kozmotis tried to pull his knee up, but winced in pain when the same type of rope cut into his ankle.

"Why..." he asked, wondering if he was going to regret it, "Why d-do you need me?" Kozmotis let out a horrified gasp when that paw started to slide off his pants.

"I need you to carry my young..."

He was right... he instantly regretted asking that question.

_I wait until it's dark  
then I touch the wet skin  
don't betray me  
oh don't you see the bridge burning  
stop crying and don't defend yourself  
else it will break in two_

The reproductive system of Pookas was strange. Instead of males and females having sperm and eggs, respectively, they already had zygotes complete with different variations of their DNA. However, the zygotes had to be implanted into another species, or have another species procreate with them. Somewhere along the line, Pookas had taken the former as the ideal way to ensure the survival of their species due to lower risk of death during childbirth for the females. What they also found out along the line was that humans, no matter the gender, were the best at carrying and produced some of the healthiest offspring. Kozmotis had heard this from Aster around the tenth time he had mated with him after he had practically demanded to know why he had been taken away from his home and used as nothing more than a sex slave. The explanation had been brutally honest in the way that it practically slapped him in the face with ice water.

He had argued with him, of course, telling the rabbit that he was male and couldn't possibly carry offspring, but he had argued back with the story of how he was born from a human male. He argued that he didn't have the correct skeletal anatomy for the ability to carry young without hurting his spine. It was retaliated with the fact that Pookas made a certain elixir that would alter the skeleton to just about where it would be able to handle the added weight of the babies. Kozmotis had even argued the fact that he was 43 years old and highly unable to be impregnated at this point. But once again, Aster had shot down his theory, stating that other humans that were captured that were older than him successfully produced Pookas.

But even after a month of being forced onto the bed, Kozmotis had yet to carry. He considered it a small victory against the monster that had pulled him down into this Hell.

_You smell so good  
you smell so good  
I go behind you_

The violinist whimpered as a sharp sting radiated from his shoulder. He opened his eyes, and found to his disappointment that the past month and a half were not a dream at all. The raven-haired man placed a hand over the bite mark on his shoulder as he sat up, hissing in pain as the movement aggravated the wound to the point that it felt like it burned. The other side of the bed was empty as usual; Aster was usually gone around morning to do who-knows-what. Kozmotis didn't mind at all; it was the only time he didn't have to worry about being hurt or forced to do things he really didn't want to do. Planting his feet firmly on the ground, the raven-haired man stood up and quickly grabbed onto the nightstand as a sudden wave of nausea hit him like a ton of bricks. One mad dash to the bathroom later, and Pitchiner was vomiting up whatever he was forced to eat the night before. He hoped to any deity above that he got sick from something he ate or that it was flu season and he was starting to get sick.

After emptying his stomach, the violinist washed himself up and dressed himself before going back to bed and curling up on the side not stained with blood. He groaned as the room started to spin and fluctuate between burning hot and ice cold. He stayed in bed for almost two hours before something, or rather someone, decided to lie down next to him. He knew who it was, and like the other times, he didn't acknowledge the Pooka as he pulled him close to his chest and nuzzle his neck. These touches used by parents and lovers were hollow and fake; Pitchiner knew that Aster was nothing but a monster that kidnapped him from his own home, murdered and ate one of his prized students, and took him away from the only family he had left. He was pulled out of his dark meditation when he felt a paw slip under his shirt and rub his stomach. He shivered and weakly tried to pull away, but Aster's hold on him was strong. The Pooka purred, giving his neck a slow, sensual lick before saying the words Kozmotis dreaded to hear.

"You're carrying... Ain't that beautiful, love?"

_You smell so good  
you smell so good  
I go behind you_

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**Thoughts? You know, asides from the fact this sucks?**


	3. Chapter 3

**I just want to thank all of you guys for liking this crappy little fic… It makes me smile that so many of you like it… haha… Also want to apologiz for not posting this sooner... had a busy week and weekend... and have a sore back now thanks to my first tattoo I decided to get on my spine because I'm an idiot... advice: the outline hurts more than the coloring/filling...**

**Warnings: sexual situations that are pretty non-con, mpreg/birth/c-section, and just overall crappiness of this chapter**

**Poem is Never Try to Trick Me With A Kiss by Sylvia Plath**

* * *

Pregnancy was a fickle thing. One moment, the violinist was craving the oddest combination of foods like heavily-spiced steak cooked medium-rare with honey, and the next moment he was disgusted with any food presented to him. One time he gagged at the sight of a carrot that was in a kitchenette by his room. He also experienced morning sickness more often than he cared for and found himself at the toilet at the same time every morning; he was grateful that Pookas were pretty technologically advanced and had running water and such. His emotions fluctuated greatly, too. He'd go from angry at the world for any and every thing he'd see to suicidal and a depressed mess of a man at the drop of a hat.

But the worst thing about being pregnant was just how sensitive he was…

It didn't matter that he was carrying now; Aster would find time to be intimate with him any chance he could get. Kozmotis never enjoyed the caresses or the groping. And Heaven knows he absolutely despised intercourse. Every caress he'd felt before was like getting smeared with something dirty like grease or coal. Every rake of claws was like feeling spiders crawl about him looking for a place to nest or bite. Intercourse was worst of all; Kozmotis always felt like he was being torn in half like delicate silk in a tiger's unforgiving claws. Pregnancy made his hormones chaotic, which made his nerve endings a lot more susceptible to every single touch. Aster realized this and abused this power as much as he could; like it was the only thing he was made to do.

"Tell me, Love…" Aster whispered huskily as he slowly unbuttoned the man's white shirt. His mouth curled into a smirk when Pitchiner let out a shaky breath. "Do you want to share a bed with me? Do you wish to live with me in my home instead of the separate quarters?" the humans the Pookas kidnapped were hardly ever allowed to live so close to their masters. Most never even knew what lay beyond the wooden double-doors that were carved with intricate designs that seemed like a cross between Celtic and Arabian. Kozmotis wanted to deny him, wanted to scream at him defiantly until his throat bled like a river from the book of Exodus. All he could do was whimper in a mix of fear and pleasure as a claw slowly traced his chest and left a streak of red in his wake. Before he would grunt in pain or hiss from the burning sting of Aster's scratches. His hormones had trained his nerve endings to crave pain like a dog conditioned to drool at the sound of a bell. Kozmotis refused to answer yes, refused to give the Pooka straddling him the pleasure of having him even more than he did now. His throat constricted, making the moan sound more like a whimper when he felt the other's warm tongue lap at the blood slowly oozing from the cut across his front.

"You'll be all mine…" he heard the other purr close to his ear, feeling the warm breath on the side of his neck like warm caress of a heater on a cold winter day. Kozmotis yearned to claw the rabbit's eyes out, feel the blood on his fingers as he ripped them out of his sockets and squash them under his boots like rotten grapes. His hands were at his sides, grabbing a fistful of the bed sheets when Aster bit his neck hard enough to make him arch his back. Kozmotis felt his pants being unbuckled, and he yearned to slap his paws away, to kick him off and run away like the last twenty times he tried to escape this hell-hole he'd been dragged into. A mewl escaped his lips as the rough material of his jeans scraped against his thighs like rose stems.

"All you have to say is yes, mate…" Aster purred, raking his paws over his milky-pale thighs. He wanted to say no; he wanted to fight him off, stab him with a knife and rip out his guts like he did to Sierra. Pitchiner didn't want to feel his nerves feel like they were being lit on fire as the Pooka trailed kisses along his inner thigh, or the warmth pooling in this stomach when his paws gripped onto his hips like the metal clamps used for construction.

"Will you be mine?" Aster asked sweetly as he pulled off his boxers. Kozmotis whimpered, pressing his head back against his pillow.

_Say no; For the love of God, say no!_

"Yes…"

_**Never try to trick me with a kiss  
Pretending that the birds are here to stay;  
The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.**_

**_A stone can masquerade where no heart is_**  
**_And virgins rise where lustful Venus lay:_**  
**_Never try to trick me with a kiss._**

The number three was a very sacred number to the Pookas. It had something to do with their myths or religions, but Pitchiner could really care less… He only knew what to do and what not to do so he'd be safe. Feeling a dull ache on his shoulder, Kozmotis rubbed the tribal markings he was forced to take. Aster had told him that humans had to be branded with certain symbols to show where they ranked in their society. Since he was living with the Pooka now, the violinist had gotten what looked like some type of flower on his shoulder; it looked similar to the markings Aster himself had on his arms. It had three arches that represented petals, which made him start to think; if the number three was such a sacred number, how could Aster have markings with three as a pattern? How important was he in this civilization? He was cut from his musings when he felt a small kick from his stomach. Instinctively, Kozmotis places a hand over his stomach, which had grown rather large the past few months.

His pregnancy gave him a mix of emotions; the most prominent of which was fear. He had heard from Aster one time he tried escaping when he was carrying that, if a caesarian section was not performed on time, the offspring would claw themselves out and leave the human to die. In some cases, the offspring would even feast on the corpse. It made him stop trying to escape after hearing that. So now here he was, sitting on the bed he was forced to share with Aster as he waited for him to come back with their medic. Kozmotis was almost at the end of his pregnancy, and, as was custom with every pregnancy nearing its end, a medic or healer was supposed to be nearby in case of an emergency or if the birthing commenced early.

Feeling something wet between his legs, he looked down to find a dark area around the crotch of his pants. As he began to stand up to change, a sharp pain echoed through his stomach. He screamed, falling back onto the bed as he curled up into a ball. He didn't know how long he stayed like that until the medic came in and laid him onto his back. Kozmotis was in a world of pain, feeling as if a hundred hot knives were slicing into every muscle in his abdominals. His ears felt as if they were disconnected from his body; everything sounded muffled from the blood pumping through his head. He cried out as another contraction hit. His world consisted only of pain and the ceiling; he didn't know or remember he was on the bed, or that he was forced to drink some strange liquid that tasted like a mix of lavender and copper. A few minutes later, his nerves began to shut down, as if someone started to hit the switches off a power box. His breathing slowed down, and his limbs felt like lead. Kozmotis barely recognized Aster as the grey Pooka held him down by his shoulders.

Kozmotis felt something cold and metallic against the base of his stomach, and he screamed when it pressed itself deeper against his skin and slid across. It was a knife, he realized, when he felt something warm begin to drip down along his thighs and his groin. The grip on his shoulders tightened, even though the drink he was given earlier made it almost impossible for him to move. He felt the other Pooka's paws slide into his stomach and shivered as fur brushed against his organs; he felt a new sense of violation. Kozmotis felt his eyelids grow heavy, his sight started to get fuzzy like a television with horrible signal. The man started to drift down into the black abyss of unconsciousness, remembering only one thing before he blacked out.

"Three! He's given birth to _three_!"

_**Our noble doctor claims the pain is his,  
While stricken patients let him have his say;  
The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.**_

_**Each virile bachelor dreads paralysis,**_  
_**The old maid in the gable cries all day:**_  
_**Never try to trick me with a kiss.**_

Pooka children were never to spend time with the humans that birthed them; in the hierarchy of the Pooka-kind, humans were nothing more than slaves or pets, depending on which Pooka the human was stuck with. Most humans were used to produce offspring until either they died or they stopped producing altogether. The latter went on to become housekeepers and the like. A human producing more than one child and surviving was unheard of. Most of the time, either the human died during labor from blood loss, or some or all of the offspring were stillborn. Kozmotis Pitchiner gave birth to three Pookas, which was considered an extremely lucky thing, and _survived_, another sign that he was indeed a special human. At the moment, Kozmotis was in the bed, which was fitted with new, clean linen, as the medic, who he learned was named Ratchet, was replacing his bandages with clean ones after inspecting the stitches he had made. He was a Pooka that was a good three inches shorter than Aster, with white fur that had splotches of auburn. The babies were all cuddled around him, using the man's body heat as a source of warmth.

"Your wound is healing well…" Ratchet stated, voice smooth and wise from age, "As long as you don't perform any strenuous activity for a couple more weeks…" The man nodded silently, subconsciously running a hand over one of the babies. The medic cleared his throat.

"Aster and some midwives (female Pookas in charge of taking care of offspring) will be here in a few minutes… I suggest you don't get attached to them…" Kozmotis was tempted to roll his eyes, but controlled himself. He knew he wasn't supposed to become attached, as well as several other things human slaves weren't supposed to do. He glanced down at the babies, wondering why none of them were grey like Aster. One was brown, another was black, and the third one, the smallest of them, was white with black at the tip of the ears. He found it odd, but remembered something from his high school biology class about different alleles species had that determined hair or fur color and dismissed the thought away.

It wasn't long before Aster came back from God-knows-where with three midwives, one for each pup. Ratchet stepped to the side, pausing his medical exam for them. The brown and the black one didn't so much as twitch when they were picked up, but when the midwife, a blonde Pooka, grabbed the white pup, he woke up with a start and began to struggle. Not knowing what else to do, she placed him back down, and everyone watched in shock as the white Pooka hopped back over to Pitchiner and snuggled into his side. The blonde Pooka looked over to Aster, cerulean eyes filled with confusion and worry as she silently asked him what to do. He motioned her to try again, but the white pup screamed and cried until it was put back down again. Kozmotis sighed, looking as innocent as he possibly could as the white Pooka laid on his stomach and curled up before falling asleep. He looked up at Aster and arched a brow.

"I'm as confused as you are…" A scoff was heard from the corner of the room, and Kozmotis couldn't help but worry at the smirk on Ratchet's face.

"It seems the Holy Child has chosen his mother. You all know that we cannot deny his request…" The third child from a three-Pooka litter was considered sacred, and was said to bring good luck to the one they cherished most. Something swelled inside Kozmotis' chest. It wasn't pride from being picked by a 'holy child' and it wasn't satisfaction from the disbelief in Aster's face when Kozmotis realized he took something precious from him. It was that same feeling he got when he held Seraphina in his arms all those years ago at the hospital. He felt love for the white Pooka.

"Well, it's only appropriate the 'mother' names his child…" Ratchet drawled, crossing his arms to distract from the warm smile growing on his face. "What do you want to name him?" Kozmotis bit his lip and looked down at the pup on his stomach, ignoring the scornful looks of the midwives and the confused look from Aster. As he ran his fingers over the soft, snow-white fur, he remembered the little brother he once had when he was a child that had died of pneumonia.

"His name is Jack…"

_**The suave eternal serpents promise bliss  
To mortal children longing to be gay;  
The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.**_

**_Sooner or later something goes amiss;_**  
**_The singing birds pack up and fly away;_**  
**_So never try to trick me with a kiss:_**  
**_The dying man will scoff and scorn at this._**

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**Thoughts? Critiques?**


End file.
